In Concert


From the cold bathroom floor
Under bath robe, on top of the bath towel
She says weakly,
I've undressed,
My tummy, messed,
You go to the concert,
By yourself.

I smile and say,
The only thing I will attend this eve is
To you.

We will be,
Just the two of us,
In concert.

Down by the river bank and the sun beats down
Glory on the ground,
Dragonflies swoop round and round
Discarded souls I found
Discarded beer cans between the lily pads
Metal scraps and petals dashed
Daughters walking with their Dads
Bikers pass, the underpass
and walking past a group of lads
I hear the traffic in a distant world
A cow from the farm talks to me
Ducks playful, swimming in a swirl
Sitting underneath the oak tree
and it's here I take the dregs of water
down my swollen throat
I watch the rippling river
I fall in,
and float,
and float

You run through the left turn
U-turn to make a right
On 85 to home
Fighting constant deluge
Until first time in days
Sunshine mixes ahead
Mountains display beauty
Green on green and yellow
Undulating valleys
peaks pressed by rolling fog
Sifting white above creeks
Flushing nature's cleansing
If only rain carries sins
to the depths of south seas
leaving sweet redemption
sifted along the banks

Perhaps they expect a pool
offerings of rare coffee
from Ethiopia

Instead of
a view of hydrangea
plus pale ale in mugs

Conversation entails
irrelevant niceties
of trivial events

Smiles exchanged
chairs rearranged
subtlety reigns

Another chance
to touch humanity
willfully aborted

He treated her

like a princess

of a very

small empire.

Neighbors who walk our street
notice the ramp constructed
with the bend toward the driveway
is gone after only three days.  

New planks of pine
******* in place as a welcome
never greet the wheels
expected to transport him to familiarity,
to warmth, to man's best friend
and to the peace of returning home.

Cars gathered around the ramp-less walkway
like bees at blossoms drinking in bits of nectar.  
His children want a taste of him that lasts.

In anguish they rend their mental cloth
while missing a clasp from his creased palm.
Each offspring mulls over unfinished issues
with his lingering spirit.

In life his skilled hands crafted love
into objects made from sawlogs.
In death he leaves imprints of endearment
in the hearts of those left behind.

Today it's the rusty pine needles
flecking the tar covered street
and pointing every which way
that signal a new season
soon will cool my morning walk.
Hidden alongside the curb
a coke can and pale spent prophylactic
trigger memories of front seat
romances that never erupted.
Luckily I didn't know then
what I know now.  I would have
wasted more of what I had been given
trying in earnest to waste
more of what I had been given.

The sun burns the sky.The steps
crush the red of the leaves.It's an
incomprehensible mystery in the
structure of the leaving green.The
sound drums the holy bell of light.
It's an unbearable restlessness in
the structure of white.Red and white
snapdragons smother their preys.

I hate it when I like somebody
Because I then get comfy with them
And then I begin to trust them
Soon, I find myself opening up
And then one day they go
No goodbye, no nothing
And I'm left alone, with no one
With nothing, and I know
I should be used to it
But it hurts a lot
Every time.